Ah, that bottle of festive Champagne. It's chilled by now, I hope. Or it's getting there, preparing to bring a frothy climax to 2016 and serve as a toast for your gathering's hopes for a fine year ahead. It's also a big wine gaffe waiting to happen. Or several gaffes, to be more precise.
The classic mishap involves the cork, of course, a hair-trigger anti-aircraft missile that can reach 80 kilometres per hour and wreak havoc on health and property. As the American Academy of Ophthalmology warns on its website, that flying mushroom has been known to cause ruptures of the eye wall, ocular bleeding, corneal abrasions, even acute glaucoma. And there have been reports in the scientific press of retinal detachment and permanent blindness, to say nothing of broken lighting fixtures, shattered tree ornaments and petrified pets.
Even when properly popped, a bottle of decent bubbly deserves more attention and etiquette than it normally gets. The right moment, the correct stemware and the competent pouring technique can help make your sparkle shine and spare your dollars from going down the drain (or ending up all over the tablecloth). Bubbly blunders? Let's get a few out in the open.
Exploding cork
Forget what you've learned from Formula One podium ceremonies. A Champagne cork should never leave your hand until it's been safely extracted. Avoid shaking the bottle. Point it at a 45-degree angle away from all sentient beings, including Snowball the cat who's covertly perched herself on the kitchen counter to snack on the paté you've left out for guests. Place a kitchen towel over the cork and twist the bottle with your other hand as you maintain a constant grip on the cork. The softer the pop, the better you've done your job – you debonair wine expert, you.
Chill that bottle good
Make sure it's fridge-cold, or below 7 C. This not only will minimize the risk of a flyaway cork, it will keep that precious carbon dioxide in solution, so you'll get more bubbles where they belong: in your glass. If you prefer to drink sparkling wine a little warmer, wait till it heats up in the glass, which doesn't take long.
Don't swirl
This rule applies if you're using standard Champagne flutes – the tall, narrow glasses you see everywhere – which are designed to be filled to about two centimetres below the rim. You paid a lot for that cocktail dress; don't incur a dry-cleaning bill on top of what you've already paid for the wine. Besides, you're not going to get much aroma by swirling that dangerously full flute. Which brings me to the next item.
Use a regular wine glass
More than a few top sommeliers have declared the flute passé. Good sparkling wine is about much more than bubbles. Like any fine wine, it ought to be enjoyed in part for its aroma; that's what large-bowl stemware is for. Fill the glass just one-third the way up, typically to where the glass extends to its widest diameter. The rest of the bowl tapers inwards to focus the scent. If you must use a flute (hey, maybe you got a brand new set for Christmas), don't pour like a football player giving the winning coach a Gatorade bath; the carbonation will erupt like Old Faithful and drench your guest's Rolex. Pour in a tiny splash, wait, then pour again – slowly. That first step will help tame the froth.
Champagne is not dessert
Dry sparkling wine is a catastrophe with most sweet foods. This includes strawberries, the inexplicably "classic" pairing, whose acidity only battles with the crisp wine. As a general rule, dessert wine should always be sweeter than the dessert. So, trot out some port or icewine for your blackberry crumble.
Serve it first, not last
This is a corollary to the previous rule. Wine service should progress from the lightest whites to the biggest reds over the course of an evening. Once everybody's sated after a long meal and a couple of hearty, full-bodied reds (and perhaps a brandy or port), there's no going back to delicate bubbly – unless you want to waste your money for the mere sake of a grand show. Palate fatigue has set in and that leaves no place for Champagne, which works best as an apéritif or a cheery welcome toast, not as a digestif.
Spend reasonably
Let's face it. New Year's Eve comes with its share of distractions. The sagging soufflé, the overcooked roast, your sloshed uncle Billy, arguments over Donald Trump's immigration policies or Justin Trudeau's cash-for-access fundraisers – you name it. By the time the ball drops on Times Square (by which point you should have long drained that Champagne), who's going to put effort into savouring a carefully cellared 1996 Dom? If sensibly priced froth is what you're after, try a decent Italian prosecco, Spanish cava or French crémant. They'll usually set you back less than $25, in some cases $12 to $18. And if you hurry to the store, you'll be home in time to chill one properly and save somebody a trip to the ophthalmologist.